The Little Friend of Fred Weasley
by yellow 14
Summary: Fred Weasley the second has a chat with a new friend of his about feelings he doesn't feel he can share with anyone else. Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 4


Disclaimer: Don't own and never will.

AN: Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition round 4 and my prompts are _burst, tranquil_ and the Linkin Park song Numb. As always, the prompts are in _italics_

If there was one word to describe Fred Weasley the second's favourite place, he would have described it as _tranquil_.

It wasn't a particularly pretty place by any means. The paint on the concrete had long since faded into obscurity and the old climbing frames had long since rusted and fallen apart. Rubbish littered the ground and the fences rattled in the wind, threatening to fall over at any moment. It was practically a death trap really, begging to be destroyed.

However for Fred Weasley it was pretty much the place he wanted to be. It was a place where he could escape, where he didn't have to think, where he could be…well, not Fred Weasley the pale imitation of his namesake.

"So what do you think?" Fred asked the beetle currently crawling across his hand. "Should I tell him that I…" Fred paused for a moment as he struggled to find the right words to say. He always struggled with the right words to say really. "Ah never mind. I've already explained this to you, you don't need me to repeat myself."

The beetle was unsurprisingly silent on the topic, just had it had been on the countless other topics he had talked to it about. It was almost embarrassing, except Fred had managed to get into this habit a lot more than was strictly healthy.

Of course, some would probably say that talking to creepy-crawlies of any kind at all was healthy, but Fred felt he had to talk to someone. Or rather, in this case, something, otherwise he'd just… _burst_ , his emotions spilling everywhere out of control.

"The thing is…everyone expects me to be this…this great prankster, like my dad was. Whenever something happens at Hogwarts, everyone seems to look and think that it's me. Or they seem to want to think that I'm busy planning another big prank or joke. And everyone compares me to my namesake, or the Marauders who came before them," Fred paused and sighed as the beetle just kept on moving. He was almost envious of it really. "If they were alive, I think I would probably hate the Marauders and my Uncle Fred. They left this huge shadow over everything that I do and…I hate it.

James doesn't have a problem with it, he loves the whole chaos thing. But me?

I can't think up a prank to save my life! I don't have the legendary Weasley Gryffindor courage! I get terrified of the idea of causing trouble and if I'm honest…I don't want to. I don't see the point in making trouble for someone else, or fooling someone into thinking something wrong. I actually LIKE studying. I hate being the centre of attention."

The beetle said nothing and simply stopped for a moment and waved it's antennae in the air. Fred smiled at the gesture and kept talking.

"It's funny. When I put the Sorting Hat on my head last year, I actually had to beg it to put me in Gryffindor," he paused and chuckled almost bitterly. "Ironic, isn't it? I get into Gryffindor because I'm too much of a coward to stand up and admit that I'm not like the rest of my family. How's that for irony?" he paused for a moment as a sour look crossed his face. "The House of the Brave at heart, the Lionhearts and last refuge of a coward. It's like the punchline to a bad joke really.

I think dad might know. He's always trying to encourage me to try out new pranks and practical jokes on my classmates and teachers alike. And I do try, but…" Fred paused for a moment and frowned. "I don't really have the knack or really the drive to really make use of these things to the fullest extent.

And to make it worse I feel like…every time I get good marks in an exam or read a book, he feels disappointed in me, like I'm not the brother he lost but a stranger playing dress up and just pretending to be him instead. He wants me to be more like him I think. Something has to give, sooner or later and I'm expecting it to be me really.

I think what I really need is someone who's genuinely my friend. Half the people who would call themselves my 'friend' are really James's friends and the other half all seem to think the same as my dad, that I'm some kind of new version of my namesake. That I'm-" Fred paused for a moment and frowned again. "No, let's be honest. They all think I'm another Weasley/Potter prankster because that's the impression I keep giving. Or…at least that's the impression I feel I have to give really. It's stupid, but I can honestly say that not one of them I feel like I could genuinely confide in. Hence the reason why I'm busy here talking to some random beetle," Fred nodded at the creature crawling across his hand.

"Bugs are a hell of a lot easier than people. They don't have expectations for you. I'll bet that nobody cares about who your parents are in the insect world. You don't have to carry around the name of someone you're not."

The beetle twitched it's antennae once more. It almost looked sympathetic really. Almost. Fred gave the beetle a smile.

"Unfortunately bugs also never talk back. People do, they can help you through the hard times, they give you advice and companionship. You never get that with bugs. They never remember you either," he gave a mirthless chuckle. "I wish I did have someone. A real friend I could call my own, someone who…" he looked down at the beetle. "What do you think? Do you think I'm just whining over nothing or do you think I should try being me for a change and not such a coward?"

The beetle as usual said nothing and simply jumped off Fred's hand. Fred gave another grim laugh and stood up.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," he said and he stood up. If he didn't get a move on, no doubt someone would no doubt ask awkward questions about where he'd been. Brushing the dust off his legs, he turned and headed towards the entrance for Diagon Alley.

AN: This was supposed to be focused on a specific feeling, in this case someone being lonely, without actually using the word lonely…yeah, maybe not as successful as I hoped. On the flip side, this story actually felt a lot more fun to write than a lot of my entries so far.


End file.
